Day 3

As with Indiana, my only ground level experience with North Dakota has been at night. During the 1990 train trip, we rolled into Fargo at 3 in the morning. The station was packed at that odd hour, but if that's when you have to catch/meet the train, that's when you show up.

On this delightful August day, however, Bismark was about as pretty as it gets in the high plains--the perfect day to take a break from the road and enjoy a little history. Just outside of town, we visited Ft. Abraham Lincoln, the home of the George Custer's 7th Cavalry. The fort is in two parts: cavalry portion adjacnt to the river, and the infantry position on a nearby bluff. Although the soldiers were depended upon to protect the railroad workers, surveyors, and homesteaders, but it seemed like they were under attack themselves, more often than not. Even with all that scenic beauty, life there must have been very boring and lonely, not to mention brutal during the winters. And what were they thinking when they headed out to meet Sitting Bull at Little Big Horn? Were they overconfident? Were there any preminitions of danger? (I don't think they had psychic friends back then.) Or, were they happy for a break in the monotony?

Later on, we headed up a typical plains dirt road to the Cross Ranch, a sprawling estate on the banks of the Missouri. During its hayday, the ranch was so big that the owner wasn't quite sure exactly how many head of cattle he had. Today, part of the ranch is a state park, while the rest is owned by the Nature Conservancy. This was familiar territory for Scott, as he spent a lot of time here during his surveys. Alongside the river, it was easy to picture the keelboats of Lews & Clark's Corps of Discovery making their way through this strange land. It's "strange" to me as well, but at least we have the luxury of road maps and restaurants. Each day, the scouts would have to fish or hunt up food for the explorers, taking whatever they could get. Our biggest decision is whether to try Burger King or Subway.

We were able to slip up to the Knife River Indian Village to get a taste of life among the Mandans. The park includes a replica of the earthen huts constructed largely by the Mandan women. Though our guide was likely a well-trained NPS employee, he seemed more interested in discussing tanning buffalo hides using brains with a couple of visitors than excusing himself and doing his job for us. We also visited the site of a Mandan village where the circular holes for the huts were still very visible. Maybe we were treading on some ancient spirits because we were quickly overwhelmed by mosquitos. These guys could overrun the swarms on Ocracoke any day. We grabbed some photos and dashed for the safety of the Rover.

The day was capped with dinner at the Big Dipper in the farm community of Washburn, just across the river. This is the best fry joint in town. In fact, it was the only fry joint in town. But at least it was open. During our quick walk around town, we noticed that Washburn had two bars, across Main St. from each other. One seemed somewhat busy, while the other was empty. Wonder why? Is there a feud on? Do patrons change places after an hour or two? One clue: the "busy" bar was right next door to the Senior Center.